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And too much breathing put him out ftf Te
Too long vacation haften'd on his whole is
Fainted, and died, nor would with a concience
For one Cartier put down to meen te
Ease was his chief disease, and larri'c
He dy'd for heaviness that his id. 20 son

So hung his destiny, never to rot
While he might ftill jogg on and keep his crop
Made of sphear-metal, never to decay
Until his revolution was at stay.
Time numbers motico, - yet (without a crio
'Gainf old truth) motion number'd out hi
And like an Engine mov'd with wheel an
His principles being ceaft, he ended strai
Reft, chat gives all men life, gave him,
Nor were it contradi&tion to affirm
Meetly to drive the time away het
Nay, quoth he, on his swooning
If I mayo't carry, sure P'll ne'er b,
But vow, though the cross Doctors

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bwith a care meer Leas,

His leisure told him that his ti
And lack of load, made his 1.

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use you have thrown off your Prelate Lord,

our Consciences that Chrift set free,

E, Learning, Faith and pure intent een held in high esteem with Paul

ds and Scotch what d'ye call :

Perttas on leuta. Jesaja0023. Mis Letters are deliver'd al' and you, Only remains this Superscription..

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with ftiff Vows renounc'd his Liturgie, We the widow'd whore Pluralitie em whose din ye envi’d, not abhorr'd, this adjure the Civil Sword

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AD PYRRH A M. ODE V.

Horatius ex Pyrrhæ illecebris tanquam è

naufragio enataverat, cujus amore ira retitos, affirmat esse miseros.

Vis multâ gracilis te puer in roca
Perfufus liquidis urget odoribus,
Grato, Pyrrha, Susb antro?
Cui flavam religas comam

Simplex manditiisi heu quoties fidem
Mut atosque deos flebit, do afpera

Nigris aquora' ventis

Emirabitur infolens,
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea :
Qui femper vacuam, femper amabilem

Sperat, nefcius aura

Fallacis, miferi, quibus
Intentat a nites. me tabulâ facer
Votivâ paries indicat svida

Suspendisse potenti
Vaftimenta maris Dro.

The Fifth ODE of Horace, Lib. I.

Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme,

according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language will perniit.

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Hat slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours

Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,
Pyrrha, for whom bind'At thou

In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Plain in thy neatness: O how oft fall he
On Faith and ch-nged Gods complain: and Seas

Rough with black winds and storms
Unwonted Aall admire:

Who now enjoys thee credulous, all Gold,
Who always vacant, always amiable

Hopes thee; of flattering gales

Unmindful. Hapless they
To whom thou untry'd seem'ft fair. Me in my row'd
Picture the sacred wall declares t'have hung

My dank and dropping weeds
To the flern God of Sea.

SONNET S.

S O N N E T I.

To the Nightingale.
Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray

Warbl ft at eeve, when all the Woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the Lover's heart doft fill,

While the jolly hours lead on propitious May, Thy liquid notes that close the eye of Day,

Firft heard before the shallow Cuccoo's bill
Portend success in love ; O, if Jove's will

Have link'd that amorous pow'r to thy soft lay, Now timely ling, ere the rude Bird of Hate

Foretel my hopeless doom in some Grove ny;

As thou from year to year haft sung too late Fer my relief; yet hadît no reason why, Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate,

Both them I serve, and of their train am I,

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